You are a son of GODS, a king among MEN.
You were born for GREATNESS;
With a storm in your chest and a HEARTSONG like a reckoning.
GODS do not bless they break and what REMAINS they call worthy.
( NOAH CENTINEO, BISEXUAL, CIS-MAN + HE/HIM, FIGHTER) «ââŠââ well met, ADAM FONTAINE! the divine born child of ZEUS. your name sings in our ears! itâs been 26 years and now they have answered the song in their veins. before they answered the song, they were a FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHER and were living in NORTH VANCOUVER, BRITISH COLUMBIA. history and myth will remember them for their FOCUSED, CHARISMATIC, & DEDICATED nature but will also magnify their STUBBORNESS, ANXIOUSNESS, & ARROGANCE if it causes them to falter. now it is time for the world to sing their name with them.
Background
Full Name: Adam Fontaine
Alias: "Thunderborn" (formerly used in underground fighting circuits)
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Sexual Orientation: Bisexual (leans emotionally toward men but resists labels)
Romantic History:
Rowan (first love â emotionally intense, ended by self-sabotage)
Caleb (deeply significant â murdered and this still haunts Adam)
Primarily all about one-night stands and avoiding romantic attachments these days.
Appearance
Height: 6'2" (188 cm)
Build: Lean and muscular, fighter's body; strong core, long reach, not bulky but powerful
Trains obsessively - early mornings, late nights, rain or shine
Tends to hum old songs to himself when he thinks no one's listening
Quirks:
Big fan of thunderstorms, the louder the better
Has a âthingâ for old, broken things - lamps, watches, devices - and has a hard time throwing them away
Sexual Behavior & Intimacy
Sex Drive: High, but conflicted - sex is more of an escape than a connection for him
Preferences:
Vers but emotionally passive
to be added
Aftercare: Nonexistent - he usually ghosts, unless something breaks through
Miscellaneous
Fighting Style: Muay Thai, Krav Maga, street boxing; Adam doesn't really care if he gets hit in the process.
Scars:
Jaw (bite mark from the monster)
Right side of ribcage (bullet graze)
Shoulder blade (claw marks from the monster)
Favorite Music: 90s grunge, cinematic instrumentals, and acoustic covers
Tattoos:
An abstract knot around his left wrist
The word âTHUNDERBORNâ on the inside of his bicep from when he picked the name as a teenager
History
Adam was born in North Vancouver and had a difficult childhood; when Adam wasnât in detention he found comfort in a local gym where heâd train and help out when things were hard at home.
At 14 Adam was attacked by a monster and was left permanently scarred, while onlookers claimed that it was a stray dog, Adam saw something else but would go on to not be believed by those he told.Â
In his adolescence Adam was combative, reckless, and aloof. After a violent blow-up with his father, Frank, he was removed from the home and institutionalized.Â
When Adam came of age he took up work doing odd jobs, mostly what he loved doing was fighting though. He liked the attention and he liked to win but he lost people during this time too.
Adam couldnât hold down a relationship and when he finally did the entire situation ended tragically.
Afterwards Adam vanished from the legal fight scene and re-emerged in darker circles - illegal fights, heavy drinking, sleeping outside, and spiraling.
Little by little though he pulled himself out of it though, clawing his way back from the edge until he adjusted to a new normal. Must have impressed the right people because he ended up working on sets, eventually choreographing some of his own fight scenes.
Adam's life was still chaotic but had some stability now, he wasn't satisfied, and then when the heartsong called him to London he was quick to ditch the life he'd been living.
TLDR
Rough childhood, bad kid
Semi-professional fighter turns underground fighter after a series of unfortunate events.
Hedonism and party life
Claims to want to be a God but really just doesn't want to die
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Tagging: Frank Fontaine & Mentions of Stephanos & Prospero
Timeframe: Current
Location: Queen's Cross, North Vancouver
Notes: post-holiday drabble, content warning for references to child abuse
Adam was always waiting.Â
Holidays were hard for just that reason.Â
He was waiting for a phone call that would never come, care that just wasnât there. He knew that he was luckier than some: Adam was in love, and what was better, they loved him back. All of him. Theyâd seen him lose it, stood by him even with viscera clinging to his knuckles. They didnât shy away from the violence, they cared for it in a way that Adam never thought anyone would. Could. So many years heâd carved himself into something so unloveable, convinced that there were some things that just werenât for him. Stuff not in the cards.Â
Still, Adam was waiting.Â
Waiting for a phone call that would never come, a family that just didnât care. Maybe they thought he was dead. Maybe they hoped that was the case - he couldnât know - and why should they? Frank Fontaine was a worthless, selfish, abusive piece of shit. Violent. Greedy. Possessive. Hateful. There was so much rage in him, so much that Adam had felt firsthand, and still, there were glimpses.Â
Adam was so loved.Â
Adam was so angry.Â
It was good to see everyoneâs parents. Their kids: brothers, sisters, nephews, cousins, the whole god damn shebang. Stephanosâs kids. But this year, just like every year, Adam still hoped - on some level - that his mom might pick up the phone. Sheâd say that she was sorry, and Adam would say he was more sorry. That he was young, too young to know that he couldnât believe everything Frank said. About him, about her.Â
There was no one from Adamâs family to come to camp. This Thanksgiving, like the last fourteen Thanksgivings, had been without. Fourteen Christmases, birthdays, and every other holiday where he was reminded of what he didnât get to have - but so many others did. This year they were making new memories, seeding happier thoughts, traditions that could be entirely their own. But still, it was hard to look at the joy the season brought everyone and not feel the sharp tang of bitterness.Â
Heâd missed out on more than heâd ever get back. He never got to be young, he never got to be innocent, but he could choose where to go from here.Â
Which is what brought him here. Home, or, in a sense. The pub was an old one on the north shore, one heâd hung around a few times as a kid. Spinning around on a barstool as he waited for Frank to finish - another - drink; the complexity of having an abusive parent was when it was good, it dimmed the bad.Â
So many times heâd envisioned what this might look like. How Frank might act. The truth was, his old man walked right past him. Adam might as well have been invisible.Â
He took a corner table, watched Frank sit on the same bar stool, with that same loud voice.
While Lochlan and Adam had different fathers, he felt a kinship to the son of Zeus. He felt like a brother to Lochy. Perhaps their own fathers could learn a thing or two from the two of them, there weren't any petty squabbles over territory or power vacuums. Just two men who looked out for each other.
Feeling the cool sensation of the gauze from the vial touch his wound, the son of Poseidon winced but he didn't jump or cry out too much. He'd taken care of plenty of injured horses to know that meant it was working. "Yeah, those things in Athens were really nasty. Must have come directly from hell, or something."
Once the gauze was applied and his injury was taken care of, Lochy rested against the wall of his cabin to catch his breath. The adrenaline of the day was wearing off and he was feeling exhausted. "I love you, too." He didn't expect to hear that from his best friend but maybe it was a result of a long day. "Thank you.. I really needed to hear that." he admitted, giving a weak smile. "I feel like everyone I care about is leaving. Kovi, Leo, Skylar, Rene." he reached a hand out to grab the others. "I'll always be there to fight by your side, thick or thin. No matter what."
Adam was the first person who was kind to him at camp, something that meant more than he may have realized. "You're my best friend in the world."
bit by bit the edges of the wound stitched and sealed together, the debris was brushed off as the potions did it's job. sometimes he wondered what the ER's of the world would look like if all of them had a witch or something on staff. whoever made these must be rich. but a lot of what lochlan was saying hit home. adrian had taken off too and everything for adam just felt... quiet. he did his thing, he lived his life, and kicked some ass. trained, fucked, practiced, loved and then put the whole thing on repeat. a good arm's length away from everything and everyone else that didn't fit in his bubble.
the wall had gone up after kovi left, he had his core and he didn't have a reason to open himself up to more disappointment. keeping everyone out hadn't stopped leonardo from walking away too, that was another down. when he thought about the people he fought the hardest for, the ones he loved the most, little by little that list got bigger. but regardless, one thing was never going to change,
"i'm never going to leave you bro," adam promised with all the certainty his voice could carry. "just don't go somewhere that i can't follow," a characteristic smile cracking at the edge in response to the softer one that lochlan peddled, hand folding over hand, covered further by adam's - large, calloused, and strong. "shit would be embarassing for you when i have to come kick down the door."
he set the gauze to the side, "c'mere man-" adam added, pulling lochlan into as much of a bear hug as he could without preventing further injury, "you're my brother, bro. my best friend."
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so heavy was adam's cock that stephanos could feel when he filled, hard and hardened, swinging with each step. the way it'd shift the gravity of him just slightly, stephanos pulling him tighter against himself to compensate. that didn't compare to the flexing, the wrenching and cramping of adam's guts around him, straining to deal with his rooted cock or his hefty load (or loads, from the feel of them). he made a good show of it, keeping somewhat contained and controlled while strolling his lover through their home, impaled and leaking in a thin stream, globs occasionally running down balls or thighs to hit the floor.
"like that, do you?" he liked to believe himself attentive, feeling the way adam reacted inside and out to the thought of being seen. being ruined, being bred and claimed, being caught in such a vulnerable state. letting everyone know that he didn't just let someone inside him-- he let them change him. he'd let them ruin him. he'd let them leave a mark that likely wasn't going away any time soon.
and when adam braced himself after stephanos laid back, the ring-enchanted wolf of a man wasn't entirely sure what was about to happen. but adam was always full of surprises. his chest heaved hard, air sucking in as adam managed to release a bit; the knobs of stephanos' transformed cock slightly revealed, plugging up adam even more thickly, before he'd slide back down and reclaim them. with wide eyes and dropped jaw, stephanos looked to adam as adam looked back. he attempted a smile, but it fell into a long, low moan; the one who ruined, being the one pushed past the edge. arching off the bed, his thickened hands went to adam's waist not to stop him, but to steady himself. to feel the rhythm of his body beyond the way that was making him cum, and cum, and cum; "please," stephanos grunted, heels planting on the sheets. "I'd ask for nothing less." sputtering a bit, as adam did the impossible. fucking himself on something that shouldn't be inside adam's body, something he shouldn't be able to take, but he could, and he did.
there was no effort to fix stephanos' glasses when they went askew, as he couldn't spare his hands. he was barely even seeing much at all, near-blinded by pleasure, by the extension of an impossible climax, by adam taking the insurmountable and riding it all the way down to the fucking base.
if adam kept it up, passing out was well and truly in the cards. but stephanos at least lasted a good twenty minutes, a bronco bucking, buried deep and hard, gumming up adam's works with everything he could give.
A thick glug of cum shifted within him as Adam rolled his hips and bounced; squelching and slapping as his taut muscles burned with exertion. His hands braced on Stephanosâs thighs, his fingers digging into the older manâs skin, nails leaving half moon marks as he lifted himself up enough to drag the knot forward, only to slam back down and bury every impossibly thick inch, every ridge, every fucking pulse of dadâs thick cock deep within.Â
A laugh, short, dark, and rueful, âYouâre fucking right I do,â tone rough with effort, body glistening with the heavy sheen of sweat as droplets beaded their way down his spine. His back flexed, muscles straining as he worked himself on the otherâs knot, his own cock - impossibly hard and heavy - swinging with every movement, dribbling more cum in endless droplets of pre onto his fatherâs thighs and slipping between them.Â
His eyes rolled back, his head falling forward as his body trembled, his muscles burning, his breath coming in sharp, searing bursts. Taking another look back, Adam attempted a taunting grin but his mouth just hung open as a heavy groan rumbled from somewhere deep in his cum-filled-guts. Stephanosâs dazed expression mirrored his own, his glasses askew, his hands firmly anchored on Adamâs waist. âRuined by your boy, huh?â His hips rolled, his body milking Stephanosâs cock, his insides clenching tight around the knot, forcing every thick spurt of cum deeper and deeper inside him.
Time trickled on and Adamâs stomach cramped, the pressure almost unbearable as his thighs and body screamed in protest; his own ejaculant spent in ribbons and globs until what was normally a furious torrent was dribbles and droplets riding out the twitchy bliss with every roll and drop of his hips. Mewling limp and battered, stretched and gaped he felt a slackness at his waist as the bucking slowed, steadied, before exhaustion took the older of the two. Confident, young, and virile, Adam had every intention of keeping good to his word but swollen in place he felt himself⊠sink.Â
Sink into the slumbering arms of his father, onto the swollen length of his enchantment, and the sanctuary that came with the embrace. Spent and broken in every impossible way, filled, marked, and drenched in debauchery. It was bliss, and in that bliss he let the exhaustion take him while the hecatean dad stayed firmly lodged within - Adam managing enough to saddle next to him and draw the otherâs paternal embrace of the swell of his abdomen.Â
insatiable was an incomplete word for the way prospero got whenever they chased a forbidden thrill - something like this: cornering adam in the back alley of a diner they had chosen to eat in, city bricks against the son of zeus's back while his mouth ran hotly over the ruddy crown of his boyfriend. the hour was late enough that they could be a little brazen - but of course, precautions had to be taken as well.Â
as he carried the length of adam's cock further into his throat, nostrils instinctively breathing the other's musk, his thumb subtly ran over the ring on his middle finger. the effect was instantaneous. shadows lengthening from where the two stood, the entire alleyway almost descending into abyssal darkness.Â
adam was asking a question, but all that left perry's mouth as a response was a choked sound. dark eyes looked up at the other then to show his devotion: lips stretched, gaze watering. when prospero pulled back to remove the cock from his mouth, he quickly replaced it with his gloved hand - pumping the length.
âwatching?â prospero looked around, dazed.Â
and found himself staring into many spectral eyes, watching. ghosts could be such awful voyeurs, especially towards divine beings. but again, their combined divinity was but a blazing beacon to all undead. âha. you're being watched by the ghosts of staten island,â perry said, smirking. âwant me to dismiss them?â he did not wait for the response, choosing instead to attach his mouth once again to the other's cock, savoring the salt already leaking from the overeager slit.Â
The dead having eyes on them wasnât nearly as off putting as it should have been, Prospero pulled off his cock as Adam tapped the crown against the otherâs plush lips. The son of Hades didnât give him the chance to reply, not that Adam wouldâve told him to do anything but keep sucking. âShit -â The wet heat of Prosperoâs mouth sent a jolt straight through to Adamâs core as he imagined the litany of spectral eyes around them, flickering in the darkness, and whispering his name. Their names.Â
AdamâŠ
ProsperoâŠ
AdamâŠ
There was a thrill that came from being watched, being wanted, and being worshipped - even if by the dead. Adamâs fingers tightened their grip before he unceremoniously rolled his hips forward with a sharp, needy thrust. âNah, let âem watch as I ruin their princeâs fucking throat.â His other hand braced against the wall, his muscles flexing as he began to fuck into Prosperoâs mouth, slow and deliberate at first, then harder, deeper, his hips snapping forward with every thrust.
 Swallowed in darkness, Adam could see little beyond the specter on his knees, and heard little else beyond the slick sounds of Prosperoâs mouth getting worked over. His cock twitched as his cock leaked, the salt of pre-cum coating Prosperoâs tongue. âThatâs right P, take it-â Drawing his lower lip between his teeth, hips snapping as the rigid muscles of his frame tensed, he felt the repetitive push and release of the back of the otherâs bruising throat with every virulent thrust.
How many eyes were on them? How many were listening? Watching.
Uh oh.
âFuck !!â Adam roared, suddenly feeling his climax coming in hot, surging in his gut as the quickfire son of Zeus pulled out just in time to begin his release: firing the first ribbon across Prosperoâs tongue. Adamâs hand tightened in Prosperoâs hair, forcing his loverâs head back just enough for the second rope to hit the otherâs cheek, thick and hot, followed by another across his lips, his chin. Adamâs body jerked with every pulse, his load painting its way across Prosperoâs face: marked and claimed, with a pair of puffy red lips to match.
A lazy, shit-eating grin bloomed, stroking himself in wet, languid strides: with a closed fist to squeeze and tap against Prospero's drenched face. âOops.â
"always." stephanos would never turn adam away, whether by choice or inability to deter his eager lover's affections. the father himself was at rest, button-down left open and knit shorts leaving little to the imagination. the picture of comfort. but not as comfortable as adam, it seemed; that last inch was an easy claim, one hand moving over to lift that remaining bit of cloth out of the way. just tracing around the shape of the crown with an idle finger, beyond casual. "what's keeping you up? you're normally asleep by now." brows higher, "need me to come to bed with you?" grin wider, "do we need to find perry?"
His breath hitched a beat as strong, steady hands found the crown of Adamâs cock and the rest of his body responded appropriately as the bulk of his focus went straight to his waist. With his attention came a rush of blood, a thicker head now pushing toward the touch. âJust thinking.â He took the father in, open shirt, knit shorts, it was a miracle that Stephanos wasnât bent over the arm of the couch already. âDangerous shit, I know.â Chances were that Prospero was out among the trees or the damned, somewhere engrossed by the night - or perhaps hanging suspended like a bat in their closet. Could never quite tell with him; Prospero didnât need the help, but the mystery made him even fucking hotter.Â
Adam gave himself a bit of a tug for good measure, hand sliding across hand, âBut I always feel better after I bust a few.â Twitching violence amid blissful dreams of endless fighting inclusive. Adamâs throat dried a bit, swallowing through a breath heâd suddenly been desperate for, âWhatâs the book about?âÂ
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this was perhaps their biggest fight to date, elian's death was a reminder of how dangerous all of this was. lochlan tried to heal him and keep him up, but the fates had other plans for the son of hecate whose heartsong could still feel in all of theirs. still, it was hard to not feel partially at fault for not being able to do the one thing you could do. while those like adam or arthur were fighters, lochlan's job was to keep his team mates up.
still, he'd lost so many people recently and that wasn't something he wanted to focus on. he may not have known elian well but it hurt just as much as leonardo or skylar leaving one day.
"hi, adam." he said as the other approached, he was glad the son of zeus was still there. he was probably the person lochy was closest to who was still at camp, someone he could lean on. simply nodding, he lifted the torn up shirt to show the deep gash that was still bloody. "you think you can stitch it up?" he noticed the supplies adam had pulled out. "i didn't even realize how bad it was until i got back."
Their circles didnât intersect quite the same, but theyâd all experienced it together. The departures, the leavings, and the deaths; it was hard for Adam to fault anyone who decided that this life wasnât for them. He could never understand it, or even relate to it, but if nothing else he could respect it: it was a tall order to ask anyone to risk their lives for others.Â
Sometimes that risk, that cost, it came up.Â
Like their fathers, Lochlan and Adam were brothers of a sort. âI think I can put some of this on a cloth and the potion will do that for meâŠâ Adam mused as he held up a vial before proceeding to empty the contents onto some gauze. âFuck bro, this is a nasty one.â Leaning in, he pressed it gingerly to Lochlanâs wound - mindful of any sensitivity, and of the injury itself.Â
âLook- Lochy-â For once Adam was at a bit of a loss for words, so he searched for what he wanted to say: his priority, his intention. âI love you, man. And I want you to know that if you ever need anythingâŠâ He folded the gauze, applying the clean side to the wound as he wiped gingerly at the mending edges to keep any dirt out of the wound. âIâm there. Always, no matter what.âÂ
if stephanos didn't know any better, from the way adam was moving on him, around him-- wet squelches and soft grunts, rippling pleasure each time adam clenched or clamped, stephanos would have to believe that adam was very, very much enjoying what he was doing to him, under the influence of the ring.
"fucking your ass is certainly what I've been doing." offered with a smile, before he'd press hard against those cheeks, again. "fucking more than that, from what I can feel, and hear. fucking your insides." things that felt filthy to say, but only the more right to come from his usually more proper mouth. adam and prospero both were the closest to knowing the depths of his depravity. "fucking your stomach," as he sank fingers into skin left soft.
with whatever strength divinity and brief enchantment would give him, stephanos would crouch -- bringing adam's hips back with him, almost like a squat -- and get his hands under adam's knees. lifting as he'd straighten, growling low in his throat as the tug on his widened base would make him squirt more into his lover. then settling back, standing upright, adam fucked open on his knotted cock and exposed, knees in the air.
"just so I can carry you there," muttered behind adam's head, with a teasing smile. "not at all so you can imagine anyone you'd want to, finding you like this. stuck on me." each step made with care, deliberate and cautious, bringing his lover to bed as he'd asked. whatever he'd damn himself to by laying back, letting adam seat himself on his hips, stephanos would joyously accept.
The sudden shift in position sent a fresh wave of sensation through Adam. His fingers scrambled for purchase, gripping Stephanosâs shoulders as he was lifted, his body slack and pliant, completely at his loverâs mercy as the son of Hecate paraded him through the cabin: knot stuffed in a leaking gape, with resurging vitality, Adamâs hand snaked toward his waist as his idle thoughts wandered toward what any peeping through the windows - or waltzing into the cabin - would see firsthand. Then there he was, hard again: woe was he.
âFuck -Anyone walks in on this -â His voice was a wrecked, breathless laugh, his head falling back against Stephanosâs chest as he was carried. The position left him so fucking exposed, he could feel it - the way his insides shifted with every step, the way cum dripped from him, thick and warm, trickling down his thighs. His stomach cramped again, the pressure almost unbearable, but - admittedly - Adam loved it. Feeling used, owned, and even ruined only felt acceptable considering the cock that dealt the proverbial hand.Â
Risky. That was something to add, or maybe, something he shouldâve figured out sooner. The bathhouse, the lake, the forest, making out in the amphitheatre; Adam had been locking Stephanos to the interior of the cabin for too long; dadâs back hit the bed, and Adam sunk onto his waist, knot pushing deeper as a soft whimper escaped the otherwise violent fighter. They both had their appetites, that Stephanos matched his own - maybe even exceeded - made them occasionally unproductive.Â
Because as Adam sank into a reverse riding position - peeling his sweaty tank top off and discarding it - it could be this all night. Back flexing as Adam braced his hands on Stephanosâs legs, dragging his body up and half-tugging the knot before pushing his hips back down. A salacious, shit-eating grin turned over Adamâs shoulder as he looked down at the older man - moving his waist up, then back down again. âIf you pass out first Iâm gonna fuck you back awake.â A promise.Â
@divineholdings
location: outside the zeus cabin
notes: october event!
Adam just had to keep his mind from fucking spinning out. They all kinda did, he figured. Adam was out for his morning jog when the idea came to him, pushing through the cold film of fog that swam around him as the son of Zeus jostled the ozone itself with every stride. The idea was how heâd hit up a few novelty stores, a craft one, blew a bunch of money he still didnât understand the conversion on - then landed outside his old place.
Their old place.
His brother inside.Â
âEyo!â Adam called to RaĂșl from outside, he lifted a couple of bags, each of them brimming with Halloween supplies fit to deck the Zeus cabin out like a bonafide haunted house. âI got some stuffâŠâ Sometimes it felt like the camp was looking to the sons of Zeus for direction, guidance. Adam didnât have any answers for them, RaĂșl probably didnât either, but loss didnât mean they stopped living their lives. âIâve uh⊠Iâve never done anything like this, but I thought youâd maybe understand? Like⊠maybe youâre the only one who might?" Heavy was the head, and all that.Â
âYou feel like transforming this place?â Adam gestured with his chin toward the cabin, his mouth quirked, signature smirk falling into place, âTogether?â
adam's body was nearly as loud as his voice, so much displaced within him that it'd be impossible not to make noise, shifting parts of him around. roughly, to accommodate. from the back of stephanos' throat, a snarl curled low, ring-sharpened teeth bared as he buried himself deep. further inside adam than anyone ever before, or so he'd hoped, as he pulsed and throbbed. a fountain of warm load, finding space in adam's gut that might not have been there for it to take.
his arm still barring across adam's torso, that one was pulled lower, the rumbling from stephanos deepening, getting louder, as he felt just how soft he'd pushed adam's core. ruined, in a way. ravaged. claimed, in some sense. marked to the point it'd be impossible not to notice, as the father kept grinding his hips forward, keeping things moving inside adam just enough to allow those wet noises of escape.
"I would hope so," stephanos offered, some semblance of the caring lover finding its way back int his voice. "this is..." his palm, his fingers, sink deeper into adam's belly. "technically impossible." each breath likely pressed against adam's back, tugging his thickened root against the inside of adam's rim. "thank you for the gift. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I have." matched with a moon-ringed gaze aimed right at adam, above a more lupine grin, reflected in the glass against the dark.
"now, do I carry you to bed to recover? I fear these symptoms might be..." he tucked his nose in behind adam's ear. "lasting."
His body still clenched around the knot buried inside of him as he tried, in vain, to accommodate that overwhelming sensations - his stomach heavy, distended, full - and the squish that came from Stephanosâs continued movements only made Adamâs cock twitch weakly again. A wrecked, breathless laugh passed from Adamâs lips as his body still trembled from the aftershocks of being ruined so thoroughly. âTechnically impossible my fucking ass-â he managed, his words slurring together as his foggy mind, still addled with pleasure, tried to coordinate itself around the haze of his destruction. Fucked stupid, as if Adam could afford it.Â
It was easy to let his head fall back, it wasnât in his bodyâs nature to surrender but nurture had coaxed that inherent aversion of being slack and pliant under someoneâs control. Safe in the arms of the father, as it were; the effect just as lasting and as equally filling as every other part of the older man. It was gradual, but some of Adamâs senses were coming back to him, enough to be mindful of how spent he was, how full he was, and how locked Stephanos was inside of him. He could feel his body pulled back every time the other moved his hips, and Adam pushed back - milking the other for every drop he had. Â
Adam didnât want to move, but he was already half laying on Stephanos - the gelatin strength of his relaxed muscles willfully failing him at the moment. His lips curled into a lazy, sated grin, his eyes half-lidded as he turned his head to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to Stephanosâs mouth. âI was way⊠way⊠way the fuck more into that than I thought Iâd be. Take me to bed,â so he could bounce on that knot until Stephanos started howling at the moon.
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@gravexheart
location: your choice!
notes: october event
âFuck.â Adam groaned, the warm, wet sound of Prosperoâs mouth working over his cock as the son of Zeus kept a firm grip on the back of his loverâs head. He drew his lower lip between his teeth, head tilting against whatever surface heâd been backed into, looking down the length of his frame to watch as his cock slid in and out of his mouth.Â
AdamâŠ
A wince with a sharp intake of air followed, âshit- did you hear that?â Even as Adam asked this though, his hand stayed firmly planted on the back of Prosperoâs head as he pushed against the back of his throat with a sudden jut of his hips. The fog creeping around their limbs, the pair half swallowed by it as the sudden spike in fear brought adrenaline with it.Â
AdamâŠ
âFucking fuck-â his grip slacked, cheeks dusted as he corded his hand through a damp mop of curls, mouth hanging slightly agape, pressure building in tandem with the mounting anxiousness. âI swear to fuck I keep hearing something say my name out there.â
@miindkiiller
location: The Cabin
notes: october event
It wasn't hard to get his partnersâ attention, most often Adam demanded it; he had a habit of filling a room. Snacking, watching one of his partners from the kitchen - relaxed, brow drawn as he appeared engrossed in what he was reading. They could see how long that would last. Adam flopped onto the couch, body half strewn across the son of the crossroads as he propped his cheek up on his fist. âI know itâs late, but uh-â Adam reached for his crotch and adjusted himself over the thin fabric of his athletic shorts. Free balling it as per usual, the crown of his cock less than an inch from poking through the hem of one leg; thick line of his bulge outlining the rest. âCan I sit with you?â